The Language of Queens
by Neon Genesis
Summary: Alternate story to 250 Dark Stars. Yukimura beats Atobe to win the National championship, in doing so sparking a feud between Hyotei and Rikkai. Once it escalates to a breaking point, transfers between the two schools are encouraged to foster better relations. Tachibana An and Yukimura Sayoko both volunteer: one to run toward something, the other to run away.


Author's Note: Don't worry, this is only a prologue. The real chapters will be a good bit longer.

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><p><strong>The Language of Queens<strong>

_(I don't know where you're going_

_But do you got room_

_For one more troubled soul?)_

It was Japan's hottest summer on record.

Every minute or so Tachibana An had to wipe the sweat from her brow while shielding her eyes against the harsh gold glare of the sun. She could hardly see what was happening on the court, could barely make out the stands full of more than a thousand people. For all she knew they might all have left.

The stadium was graveyard-silent and graveyard-somber.

Until—

"Game, set, match! Rikkai's Yukimura wins 7 - 6, 6 - 7, 7 - 6! Rikkai Dai High School is once again this year's National champion!"

_I can't believe it, _thought An dimly. _I honestly can't believe it. I can't believe _him_._

Yukimura Seiichi. The Child of God had finally won his third straight National championship. But, she saw, leaning over the railing as if drawn to him by magnetism, that he did not look happy at all. His expression was as cold and remote as that of an avenging angel carved into the marble pillar of a cathedral.

_Be happy, _she thought suddenly, desperately, _be happy, won't you just be happy? _

And then she had to lean back, shake her head, because why on _earth _was she thinking something like that, he was Rikkai's Yukimura, no friend of hers, and he'd just—

"I'll _kill _him," growled Shishido from beside her. "I'll murder that pretty-boy bastard."

"He's gone too far," agreed An's teammate and vice-captain, Yamaguchi Kaiyo, darkly. "Too goddamned far."

Another of An's teammates, Sohma Tsukushi, whispered in a voice choked by unshed tears, "But how could he… I just don't understand how… how someone could do something so… so despicable." She shook her head, and absently An petted her long red hair. "And to Atobe-senpai of all people…!"

Even Atobe Keigo was helpless when stripped of all his senses. Stripped of them like paint from a wall or bark off a tree.

At present Kabaji was helping his captain and best friend off the court, and An knew that only for the sake of Atobe's pride was Kabaji not just outright carrying him. There was clearly no strength in his limbs, none at all, but worst of all was the fact that he wasn't _saying _anything, just looking down, his hair in his face. Atobe always had something to say, knew what to say.

But not this time. For the very first time, he seemed fallible, vulnerable. Human. Terribly, heartbreakingly human.

And An hated Yukimura for showing that, proving that. Atobe Keigo was _supposed _to be larger than life, too good to be true. A person, sure, but not a person like everyone else. A person about whom you could shake your head ruefully and say, _Well, but that's Atobe though. He's special._

Some fairytales, you want to believe.

But sometimes the wolf is the one left standing in the end.

Rikkai's vice-captain, Kirihara Akaya, had stepped onto the court to put his hand on Yukimura's arm, say something in his ear. But Yukimura responded neither verbally nor visually, and with a grimly downturned mouth Kirihara turned away, and in doing so his eyes, somehow, met An's.

And she recalled a chilly autumn night, years ago, recalled the cheap yellow glow of her family's porchlight getting lost in the dark tangle of his hair, recalled the perfect arching line of his back as he'd knelt down there on the porch, said in a voice that cracked and strained and ached and ached and ached—_Please. _

_Please._

Ducking her head quickly, An slipped through her fellow Hyotei regulars and trotted down to the player's bench where Kabaji had deposited Atobe. She hadn't any idea what to say to him, only wanted to see him, reassure herself he was okay, maybe tell him that this loss didn't change anything, not where it counted.

When it came down to it, Atobe Keigo would always be invincible.

But Atobe was sitting with his head in his hands, a towel that certainly cost more than An's entire wardrobe around his neck, with Kabaji standing over him and his girlfriend—_ex-girlfriend, _An reminded herself—Ikeda Ai, sitting beside him, not speaking but just—

Somehow she seemed to be _listening_, though no words were being exchanged at all, listening to Atobe, patiently and empathetically, and sometimes An really had to wonder whether she herself would ever be able to do that. To love like that.

With a small smile, An retreated back into the stands.

Officials and news crews were gathering on the court, and the umpire called out, "Players, please shake hands at the net!"

Rikkai's stands had been cheering loudly ever since the final call, but Hyotei's legions had remained silent. A current was running through the crowd though, something raw and dark and electric, her schoolmates were shifting, muttering, An was prepared for them to start chanting about Hyotei being the winner, or even to start booing, but instead—

"No!" someone shouted, their voice ringing with a note of dreadful, ominous finality. And then, simply: "Never. Never."

_Never. _

_Hyotei will never let this stand._

"Never. Never. Never." The crowds of gray and white began stomping their feet, banging their fists against the hard plastic seats of the stands. An felt the vibrations in her bones, in her lungs, in her blood. "Never. Never. Never. Never, never, never!"

Nearly a thousand voices unified in their outrage, disciplined in their objection. This was no angry mob: this was an army poised to advance, ready to fire, teeth bared and swords drawn. Ever since she'd transferred to Hyotei, An had marveled at her schoolmates' ability to organize themselves so seamlessly, direct themselves so rigidly. She now knew it was thanks to Atobe Keigo.

Atobe, who was the king.

Anyone who hurt the king could never be forgiven.

"_Never, never, never!_"

Yukimura had been walking over to join the rest of his teammates, but now he turned slowly, raised his eyebrows fractionally. Smiled a little. As if he were saying, _Come and get me._

And An, suddenly and ridiculously and quite despite herself, fell just a little bit in love. But—

_Hyotei will never stand for this._

Never, never, never.

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><p>Whatever questions you have, rest assured, they'll be explained.<p>

One of the main reasons I want to write this story is because I've revised my opinions of An and Akaya (not together, just as individuals). More on that later.

My OCs from **250DS**/**KDH **will not all make appearances (probably the main reason updating **KDH **is not a possibility right now - too many characters), but some will play important roles, namely:

- Ikeda Ai  
><strong>- <strong>Yamaguchi Kaiyo  
>- Hashimoto Yuuka<br>- Watanabe Chouko  
>- Fujimaru Imari<br>- Sohma Tsukushi  
>- Hayley LeGrande<p>

And, of course, Sayoko.

Disclaimer: I do not own _Prince of Tennis_, or Fall Out Boy's "Alone Together" (lyrics at the top).


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